


The Wallflower That Wanted To Be A Star

by SapphyreLily



Series: Seijou 4 Week 2016 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, looking up to someone, slow realisations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7539229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seijoh 4 Week Day 1 - First Meeting</p><p>Looking up to someone has its own unique flavour, an experience that can never be replicated.</p><p>But when will you realise that it's time to let go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wallflower That Wanted To Be A Star

The first time Issei sees a star, it’s a little boy.

He’s not much older than Issei himself, but he has this ephemeral glow; a light that shines from somewhere inside him, a spark like the strike of a match. He is otherworldly and desirable, with an easy magnetism that all but draws Issei towards him.

Issei takes an involuntary step forward, and stops.

He’s smiling at someone else.

Issei follows his eyes, finds the other looking back at the star. _His_ star. (Because he’s decided that no matter what, this boy would always be _the_ one, _the_ light that shot out of the darkness, blinding him when he wasn’t ready.)

(He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready.)

The other boy is different, yet the same.

He’s the moon.

Steady, strong, a constant burning, a bright presence that you sometimes forget exists because the stars shine brighter. He is calm and solid and _there_ , and Issei wonders if this is why the Earth only allows the moon to appear at night – because he is so unique that she refuses to share.

(He decides that maybe, _maybe_ , he likes the moon as well.)

The moon holds out his hand, and the star takes it.

They walk away without seeing him, and he is left staring into the suddenly dark night.

x.x.x.x.x

The first time Issei forgets how to breathe, it’s when he realises that _yes, oxygen is a_ thing.

If he had met a star and a moon all those years ago, why couldn’t he meet oxygen in the flesh?

Oxygen is short, his hair tinted pink, face upturned and eyes slitted against the sun. He turns to Issei – standing almost five metres away – squinting at him against the light and says–

“Well, bird's nest, aren’t you going to say anything?”

Issei swears he would have slapped him had they not been in a crowd.

(How'd the guy know he was staring, anyway?)

x.x.x.x.x

Oxygen's name is Hanamaki Takahiro, and his hair is strawberry blond.

(“That means it’s pinkish-yellow, but this looks like watered down diarrhoea.”

“Really, Hanamaki?”

“Shut up, I know you agree. See, you laughed.”)

They aren’t classmates, so he only sees him during lunch if he’s lucky, or after school before clubs start.

That was before they joined the volleyball club. But when one practice he looks up and sees that head of watered down diarrhoea, suddenly, they become so much closer.

Issei is happy when he’s with Hanamaki. His laughs come more easily, his frowns are less existent. He has more to say, more to comment on, though of course, he spends a lot of time listening.

Because Hanamaki talks _a lot_.

He makes bad jokes, changes his tone of voice often, remarks sarcastically on everything and everyone. He is popular though he’s quiet, and Issei used to laugh at him because his jaw is practically unhinged when they’re together, but among others he’s shut up tighter than a stubborn clam.

They are a good fit, and Issei almost forgets what life was like before he met Hanamaki.

(It wasn’t _bad_ , but it wasn’t the best either.)

He knows that humans can’t live without oxygen, and that’s what being friends with Hanamaki is like. Electrifying and slightly dangerous, ready to combust at the show of a spark, but otherwise it was all he needed to live on.

(He almost forgets his star and moon, and survives on oxygen alone.)

x.x.x.x.x

It is a pretty day when they graduate, all blue sky and wisps of clouds. They are walking home in companionable silence when Hanamaki asks, “So, which high school are you going to?”

Issei hums, because he’s been putting this off forever, certain that if he spoke and made it a reality, he would have to choke and die because he couldn’t live without oxygen.

“Aoba Jousai,” he says finally, eyes affixed to the ground.

He misses the way Hanamaki’s eyes light up, his squeak of surprise.

He does not miss the way the strawberry blond knocks him into some bushes when he jumps him in happiness.

x.x.x.x.x

High school is exhilarating and frightening. Not that it shows on Issei's face, or so Hanamaki says.

Still.

It’s terrifying.

He expects it when he’s sorted into the ‘stupidest’ class, but it still stings that Hanamaki is in a better, _smarter_ class than him. He tells himself it doesn’t matter, and moves on.

(It matters a lot.)

He picks up a club application form for himself and Hanamaki, drops the completed forms off and drags his friend to the gym where the volleyball club practices.

He stops, stunned, and stares.

Hanamaki pushes past him, grumbling as he changes his shoes. He does not notice how Issei is suddenly choked up, shocked into the silence of a dark night so many years past.

There is his star. And the moon.

( _His_ moon?)

They are beautiful. Grown up, with harder planes of their faces, lines on their foreheads and in the corners of their eyes, but still ethereal, still otherworldly and out of reach.

Hanamaki pushes him towards them, and then they are no longer just a dream.

Issei scowls when he realises they are taller than him.

The coach calls them, sets them up to test their basics and control of the ball. Amazingly, he is paired with his star. Hanamaki gets the moon.

They face each other, and his star smiles, dazzlingly, brilliantly bright.

His name is Oikawa Tooru.

He is a setter.

Issei is thrilled, yet wary. Would this angelic being be as good as his looks?

He is. Yet he isn’t.

His attitude is cringe-worthy, and it takes everything Issei has not to make a smartass remark, not to call Hanamaki from across the net to tell him of this boy and how _fake_ he is.

Oikawa sets well, receives well, and his jump serve is perfect.

Well. Just his attitude, then.

They swap partners, and Issei finds himself face-to-face with the moon.

Iwaizumi Hajime, wing spiker. Also known as ‘Iwa-chan’, and Issei is still childish enough to pick that up as a jibe.

Iwaizumi scowls at him and serves a ball to his face.

(He receives it nicely, which pisses Iwaizumi off.)

(Maybe they could get along.)

At least _this_ boy is serious with what he does, tries hard and soaks up criticism to fine tune his game. Issei is jealous and just a little mad that someone could try so hard, when he thought _he_ tried plenty hard.

He pushes himself harder just to prove a point.

(To himself?)

An eternity and too many drills later, the coach finally nods and writes something on his clipboard, releasing them for a break. Issei drinks long and deep before he turns to Hanamaki to comment, but his best friend is starstruck.

Of course Oikawa would have that effect.

But then the star turns to poke and tease Iwaizumi, and the film of awe slides off Hanamaki when he realises how _immature_ he actually is.

Issei snickers, murmurs his observations under his breath. Hanamaki glances up at him, a smirk stealing across his face as he gestures towards the star and moon.

Issei nods, and they are back in action.

By the end of the practice, Oikawa is attached to the both of them, a wary Iwaizumi following behind. They have new nicknames – Mattsun and Makki – and so it seems, new friends.

He watches Oikawa bicker with Iwaizumi, watches Iwaizumi smack him upside the head. It’s a gesture born of familiarity, of trust and a desire to keep his friend’s overinflated head on the ground.

That’s the moment Issei realises.

They’re human too.

They burn bright, shining in the darkness, but they too need grounding, they too try as hard as he does, maybe harder, to be the best that they can be.

He’s envious, and a little in awe.

But he’s still childish, immature, and wet behind the ears, so he doesn’t let go of his star and moon, treating them like idols for the longest time.

Until one day, one day, he’s finally strong enough to let that go, strong enough to see them as they always have been – human, just like him, just like Hanamaki.

(Because now, he can admit that he doesn’t need oxygen all the time. Sometimes, a little deprivation can force his best. And if he can live without oxygen, why does he need a star and a moon?)


End file.
